


time, take this sadness from me

by gwmclintock88



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, F/F, Winter Finale Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwmclintock88/pseuds/gwmclintock88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In less than a day, her whole world began to fall apart, rattled to it's very core. And now, with everyone trying to celebrate a stupid holiday, Skye just wanted to hide in her room.</p><p>But Jemma won't let her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	time, take this sadness from me

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Agents of SHIELD season 2 winter finale. 
> 
> Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Skye doesn’t hate Christmas (really, out of all the stupid, useless holidays, it is her most enjoyable one). But growing up in foster care, without any real traditions _or family_ , she found it hard to be joyous. So, she settled on a general dislike for Christmas and tried her best to ignore everything she couldn’t actually participate in.

Being happy all the time at this time of year was hard, like real hard for her. Harder than the matron’s bread after Skye nicked the yeast. Or the time she got slapped on the knuckles with the ruler for asking about what happened to Jesus after he was born – seven hard whacks to the knuckles, thank you very much.

No, Christmas meant family, and presents, and family, and laughter, and family, and food. None of which she really had growing up – except what she could take or steal or liberate, which she got really good at doing by the time she was eighteen.

So finding herself in a makeshift family with one of their own dead only made her _dislike_ the holiday even more. What good was a family if they died on you or betrayed you or just left? Family wasn’t supposed to leave. They were supposed to stick around and be there for you. Not leave.

“Skye?”

She rubbed her nose, trying to hide the snot in her sweater as she turned back to see Jemma standing in the doorway to her bedroom. In the silhouette, she looked about as well as Skye felt – hollow, and empty.

“Hey, we have new orders?” Skye asked, sitting up from her bed.

Jemma shook her head and said, “no, I just, I wanted to check up on you.” She entered the room, smiling, or maybe trying to in her awkward way.

(None of them really knew how to smile, not since Trip died…since she killed him. But they tried. All of them did, at least to honor his memory.)

“I’m okay,” she said. Except she wasn’t.

Ever since they pulled her up from that place, along with Coulson and Mack, she couldn’t stop shaking or shivering. Everything felt like it was moving under her touch, quaking beneath even the slightest of pressures. She never spoke of the broken coffee mugs (which she only contributed a few to the pot, the others were done mainly by Lance and the Koenig brothers, so it was easy to hide her mistakes), but she felt eyes were on her all of them. Whether or not it was Coulson or May or Jemma looking at her, Skye couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was weird, no matter how comforting it felt sometimes.

“You weren’t with everyone else,” Jemma said. Skye’s bed dipped slightly as Jemma sat down, inadvertently pulling the scientist closer to her. Skye shrugged her shoulders, bumping Jemma’s, but didn’t respond. “You don’t like _It’s a Wonderful Life_? I mean, the beginning is really good, and the ending is great, but the middle kind of drags on a bit, so I understand why you may not like it, but -”

Skye couldn’t help but blurt out before Jemma could take a breath: “I’ve never seen it.” It certainly served to shut her up, except the hurt look on her scientist’s face only made Skye feel the shakes even more.

“Skye,” Jemma said. Either she was ignoring the way Skye felt like she was going to vibrate out of existence or didn’t notice it, but Jemma just reached out to touch her shoulder.

“I’m okay, Jemma.” Skye tried to offer what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Really, I just…I need some time for myself.”

“But it’s Christmas.” Before Skye could say anything, or deny wanting to go out there with everyone, Jemma kept talking. “It will help. Maybe.”

Skye chuckled, feeling her body vibrate even more as if shaken like a cocktail. “No, well, it’s a bit like that, but really, I just…” She couldn’t find the words, not when her body felt like it would be torn asunder at any moment. She tried to release it when she was alone, but that didn’t happen as often as she’d liked. It was worse than with Coulson and his carvings. At least he’d be able to have some help. How do you tell your friends, your family, that you are an 084, and probably killed her friend?

“Relax Skye.” Jemma’s hand reached up, brushing the hairs on her neck. Her fingers massaged the tension, ever so slowly, and matched the vibrations. Or maybe her body held itself together under her touch. A warmth reached down through her neck, drawing itself along her spin as Jemma drew upon her neck in some interesting but unknown design. “It’s not your fault.”

They were the words no one ever spoke to her. Not when she broke Bobby’s nose for being an ass to Christine back at her fourth foster home or when she got caught taking a lough of bread for dinner after one bad first week in the van. Her entire life shook under the weight of those words, vibrating even further than the warmth and heat dancing along her body.

“The mists…the Diviner, it did this,” Jemma said, waving behind her. “It…I don’t know what it did, but it’ll be okay. And its not your fault.”

“I-I…I killed him.” Skye whispered. She finally tore her gaze away from Jemma, wrapping her arms around her legs to hold her body together. Jemma just moved her hand from her neck to her shoulder, pulling the younger girl into her side.

“No, you didn’t,” Jemma said, trying again to get through her. The words echoed through her again, bouncing around as kids in an air castle (another joy only scene on Youtube) until they settled along with the other words no one ever spoke to her. “That piece of technology did. And while I don’t know how you survived it, you are here. With me. And I don’t know what I would did if you left again.”

“Jemma.” Skye tried to hide her tears. They were happy ones, for once.  Kind of. After two weeks of dealing with everyone on her own, her monster of a sperm donor, Ward being the douche-bag, delusional king, and Trip dying…Trip leaving them…her, she didn’t think she had any more tears to lose or to hide. But here she was, crying again. At least this time she was crying because someone cared enough to find her, and just sit with her, holding her together when all she wanted to do was let her body slip away into pieces. Much like that coffee mug she broke.

“Now, come on,” Jemma said. “We’re going go to celebrate Christmas Eve at least.” She tugged Skye up and off the bed, ignoring the tears. Again, that awkward Simmons’s smile of hers melted her, and she felt whole. “That means bad egg nog, and watching movies together.”

“So,” Skye wiped her eyes, letting her lips upturn into a smile, “this movie sucks?”

“Oh no, it’s a classic,” Jemma said. Her arm slipped off her shoulder, but settled around her arm, holding her close to her side.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad. Not even with Coulson watching her as she snuggled with Jemma under a blanket or May cautioning her not to drink too much. Fitz’s glare kind of upset her a little, but Jemma just pulled her closer and glared back. Lance, Bobbi, Mack, Billy, and Sam all watched her, as if she was going to break. Skye wasn’t chinaware or anything, but having Jemma hold her kept the warmth in, the shaking subdued, and the world a little bright.

Yeah, Christmases of past definitely were worse, but sitting here, with Jemma and the rest of her family watching a movie (which was poignant even if an incredibly obvious application toward her life), Skye wanted to be okay. And today that was enough.

Though, tomorrow would be pretty good if Jemma kept touching and hugging and sneaking little pecks on her cheek.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. I had something else written but that was completely changed in response to the winter finale. This is just a snapshot of what I think could happen, but I hope I do it justice in some way. 
> 
> Marvel owns Agents of SHIELD. Moody Blues owns the song referenced in the title of this fic.


End file.
